


mercy rule

by troubled



Category: DBSK | Tohoshinki | TVfXQ | TVXQ
Genre: Age Reversal, Alternate Reality, M/M, Older Shim Changmin, Younger Jung Yunho
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-11
Updated: 2019-06-11
Packaged: 2020-04-24 13:50:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,715
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19174594
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/troubled/pseuds/troubled
Summary: and miles to go before i sleep.changmin’s a rockstar. yunho falls in love.





	mercy rule

**Author's Note:**

> this is (was) the pilot version of trigger warning. it’s deviated a lot since then, but this one ain’t too bad. an alternate universe of another alternate universe. 
> 
> when will i update trigger warning? who the fuck knows at this point. :)

 

Changmin is painfully, viciously beautiful. He grins with the confidence of a great white shark and rips into hearts as easy as the snap of his teeth, leaves wounds that don't really mend and scars ugly enough to match. Yunho watches Changmin with eyes blinded by stage lights and fog machines, and whenever Changmin flashes that brilliant, rockstar smile at him, Yunho's world skews out of control.

“He'll kill you one of these days.”

Yunho grins at Hojun (kind Hojun who loves too much, but says too little). “I don't mind.”

Hojun shakes his head and takes Yunho's notes when Yunho dozes off during lectures, despite his best efforts. Because Yunho sleeps maybe five hours a week, trying to catch every single performance Changmin books even if he has to hitchhike across the country. Hojun buys him breakfast and lunch and dinner when he can feel Yunho's ribs under his hands.

Yunho likes strawberry milk, but he tends to forget that his body needs more than sugar and artificial colouring to keep going.

The lecturer pauses to answer a question from someone in the middle row and Yunho's phone beeps, vibrates. Yunho snaps awake like a marionette on strings, bent into awkward lines as he squints at tiny, tiny screen. He steals Hojun's pen and scribbles the name of an obscure club onto his wrist in a smear of black ink that bleeds over his veins.

Yunho's eyes light up in jubilant hues and Hojun thinks of distant, dying stars.

 

*

 

“You should fix this, Yunho-yah,” Changmin says, kohl-lined eyes glinting like shards of broken glass. His thumb digs into the corner of Yunho's mouth, sweat-salty skin pressing at one of the protruding canines. Yunho shivers. Changmin's smile hitches higher. “You'll do it for me, won’t you?”

 

*

 

Yunho comes to class with perfect, straight teeth and purpling bruises around his neck, his wrists.

Hojun doesn't ask how he affords the veneer.

 

*

 

There's a hand looped around Yunho's waist, fingers digging into skin and bones through the thin cotton of his shirt. It feels propriety. _Wrong_ . The club pulsates around him, the echo of Changmin's voice sinking into its underbelly as human-shaped silhouettes ripple in anticipation of the next live act. They move in tandem, pushing him aside and away as if they know he's only there for Changmin. _You’re not one of us anymore_ , they say. Yunho almost stumbles, but the hand keeps him on his feet and he has trouble breathing right.

“What's your name?” the stranger asks. His smile is a cut of too-white teeth across well-defined features. He looks like he belongs on the cover of a magazine. “I'm Siwon.”

Yunho's stomach roils with apprehension and he tries to pull away.

“Relax." The grip tightens, but the stranger’s smile remains kind. Light halos around his head. “I'm not going to bite.”

“I—”

“Hyung.”

Siwon's eyes flicker to somewhere over Yunho's shoulder. “Changmin-ah!”

The red of Changmin's shirt, left unbuttoned from the show, makes his skin glow alabaster in the half-dark. He's raking damp hair back and his mouth is crinkled around the edges, bemused. “Are you trying to steal my fan?”

Changmin rolls the last word around in his mouth, like something too sweet, sickeningly so.

“You always get the cutest ones,” Siwon laughs. He glances at Yunho and winks, terribly terribly good looking. If Yunho isn’t already helplessly in love with Changmin, he thinks he could’ve fallen for Siwon. “Once you get bored of him, come and find me, alright? I’ll treat you better.”

Changmin snorts, but he accepts Siwon’s arm around his shoulder and doesn’t look back as they venture further into the club.

Leaving Yunho rooted to the spot, unsure if he’s allowed to leave. Or if he’s supposed to wait there, jealousy eating a hole through his stomach lining.

 

*

 

In the middle of summer, Changmin signs with SM Entertainment.

Yunho reads the article in disbelief. Even the larger fansites are caught blindsided by the announcement. In one of the pictures, Changmin’s standing next to Siwon and they’re smiling into the camera. In another, they’re both laughing and Siwon had a hand over Changmin’s arm as the rest of the company representatives clapped politely around them.

_can’t believe this fucking sellout!!_

_omg oppa’s getting the recognition he deserves! finally!_

Yunho crawls into bed and stays there, head buried under his pillow.

 

*

 

Hojun comes home after a shift at the convenience store to find Yunho sitting on the edge of the couch, a blanket draped around his shoulder and legs pulled close to his chest. His face is cradled in the crevice between his kneecaps. He’s beautiful, like a heartbreak. Like someone who deserves to be loved gently, to be held by soft hands and to be told how good he is, how perfect. But nobody has ever told Yunho so, not the least that pretty boy rockstar who burns so hot and bright that Yunho sees nothing else. Hojun takes a step forward, unsure of what to say. To do.

He’s so used to fixing things _for_ Yunho that he doesn’t know how to fix _him_.

“I’m dropping out.”

“What?” Hojun frowns. He cards his fingers through Yunho’s hair, fingertips grazing the back of his neck. His shoulder blades. The raised bumps of Yunho’s spine, sharp and brittle under the skin. “What are you talking about?”

Yunho looks straight ahead, already well out of Hojun’s reach. “Minwoo-hyung said he can get me a spot as a backup dancer for this idol group that’s debuting next month. One of the regulars broke his leg and—” A pause, Yunho licking his lips. “—I already told my parents.”

“But—” Hojun swallows hard, throat working around the cutting sharpness inside. “What did they say?”

The flicker of pain in Yunho’s eyes is enough of an answer. His father wants him to be a prosecutor, an upstanding member of the community. His father wants him to be so much more than a lovesick fool chasing after a daydream. “I’m leaving tomorrow morning, hyung.” He looks up at Hojun with large, luminous eyes. Yunho isn’t crying, Hojun doesn’t think so, but he can be wrong. He’s been wrong too many times before. “Can I stay here tonight?”

“Sure. Whatever you need.”

 

*

 

Yunho sleeps curled up against Hojun, even though he’s taller. His head is tucked into Hojun’s shoulder, hands fisted in the fabric of Hojun’s shirt and he makes soft noises against Hojun’s clavicle as he breathes.

Hojun’s eyes are aching from staring at the dark. He doesn’t sleep.

 

*

 

The entertainment world is all glitz and glitter, pretty enough to keep people from looking too deeply at its ugly underbelly.

Yunho strikes up friendships too easily for his own good. He moves from just being a backup dancer to the backup dancer who knows everyone. It’s a thin, razorsharp line to tread and he cuts himself up whenever he doesn’t say ‘no’, gets dragged to parties in clubs with angry neon lights and music throbbing through the darkened space. They usher him into a VIP room, where he’s introduced to people he’d only seen on screen. He’s starstruck and awkward in his earnestness, and they circle around him like sharks scenting blood. Later that night, Yunho finds himself cornered against the wall, fingers tracing the side of his jaw, the length of his pale neck as someone tips a glass of liquor against his mouth. He’s forced to drink and drink and drink, throat burning and head spinning.

Yunho stumbles free, the floor tilting precariously under his feet.

“Careful.” Siwon’s face is suddenly too close. He breaks into a grin and it’s his hands holding Yunho up. It’s his hips pushing into Yunho’s, pinning him in place. It’s his cock searing a thick, hard line against Yunho’s thigh. “You’ll hurt yourself.”

He holds onto Siwon, swallowing the urge to retch. “I-I’m okay.”

“Yeah? You’re a lightweight, aren’t you.” Siwon flashes him a smile full of teeth. His fingers on Yunho’s hips are sharp and biting. “How sweet.”

“Hyung, how many times did I tell you not to steal my fans?”

Siwon laughs. “Just this one. Give me this one and I’ll leave the rest alone.”

Changmin’s face twists into a semblance of amusement. It doesn’t reach his eyes. He places a hand on Yunho’s shoulder, thumb digging deep and Yunho understands the warning. He pushes shakily at Siwon, who sighs and rolls his eyes and walks away with nothing more than a disappointed pout. He throws a ‘ _maybe next time then_ ’ over his shoulder, easily. As if Yunho is something to be bargained and bartered to their hearts’ content. Changmin’s hand crawls towards Yunho's throat, a loose necklace of fingers and nails.

“Maybe I should get you a leash next time.” A thumb brushes over his adam’s apple. “Since you keep running off every time I’m not looking.”

The lining of Yunho’s mouth tastes metallic and his eyes water.

It hurts to breathe.

 

*

 

It’s spring. Hojun’s graduating and they find a small, secluded corner amidst the crowd littering the campus ground. Hojun hadn’t been expecting Yunho there — he sent an invitation, but wasn’t sure if Yunho is around or if he’s on tour again. He always seems to be halfway to somewhere whenever Hojun asked, living in a world that moves too fast for Hojun’s comprehension. They haven’t seen each other in almost a year and what little Hojun learns about Yunho’s life is from infrequent text messages, a few hastily-recorded videos.

Yunho turns up taller and thinner, face as pale as moonlight.

Hojun grabs his wrist, where tiny, fragile bones shift underneath. There’s a bruise marking the side of Yunho’s neck. He pulls him closer and says, “I love you.”

Yunho grips the certificate that isn’t his. He looks a little lost, a little sad as he stares at Hojun. His (straight, perfect) teeth dig into his lower lip and it’s nearly a minute later that he says, “Oh.”

Hojun leans in for a kiss. Yunho lets him.

Someone wolf-whistles at them and Hojun pretends he didn’t see Yunho climb out of a Porsche minutes before, a glimpse of someone familiar in the driver’s seat.

Yunho makes a quiet sound, like a sob, against his lips.

Hojun pretends this isn’t goodbye.

 

*

 

**end**

 

*

 

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